What Do You Think?
by Allen's Matchmaker
Summary: What some(deeply buried black part) of Allen might think of the Noahs. Bookman point of view! Very short, as you can see. Also, un-beta-ed. I do not own D. Gray-Man. Hey, thanks for reading!


Words: 828

From Bookman's point of view.

Un-betaed story. Or scene.

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Bookman watched as a bookman of every prospect should.

Men of every caliber had gathered for a 'small' drink the night after all things were hauled into their new home; the burly and the lanky of the founders; the youthful and the aged men of science and faith; even the great prophesied Destroyer of Time, Allen Walker who had actually taken quite an amount of booze despite his usual refusal to take such drinks. His apprentice was beside the exorcist, an aloof grin firmly printed in his face as the brat took another swing from his mug.

Bookman walked to the pair, his eyes narrowing at his apprentice who had managed to make the already half-drunken younger boy take another sip of his drink.

"You're losing, Moyashi-chan!" his apprentice said cheekily, a faint tint of pink in his cheeks.

"Shut up, Baka Lavi!" Allen Walker's face was similar to his apprentice, the only difference was the occasional drooping of his eyes.

"How are you, Jiji?!" his apprentice practically shouted, and waved his hand as though to capture the old man's attention though it already was set on him in the first place as he took noticed of him. "You weren't making out with the ladies were you, Panda?"

Bookman jumped without warning, lunging at his apprentice, his feet connecting with the soft, ever-smiling face of his apprentice with a _smack!_ within a second before a satisfying _crash! _was heard as his apprentice flew through the air and landed in a disgruntled pile on top of a table a small group of founders sat.

"That's mean, Panda!" his apprentice started, but after looking at the devoid face staring at him, he backed away cautiously from the old man. "I get it, I get it. Sheesh, Ojichan. Can't you take a joke?"

Bookman turned to the the exorcist who seemed unaffected by the sudden disappearance of his companion during his trance. Walker greeted him with a sleepy "Hello, Bookman." and with what can be mistaken as a nod.

"Forgive me for my apprentice's stupid behavior." Bookman bowed before taking a sit next to the white haired boy. "Bookmen do not usually act as such."

Walker smiled. "It's okay, Bookman. Lavi's just Lavi."

He nodded his head and stared at the table in front of them, contemplating in the silence.

This was a good opportunity to record some knowledge the feared general Cross might have spewed. After all, no man, let along a young boy, had ever been apprenticed to the red haired demon before. And to think young Allen Walker had to spend three years in his service. . .

Well, perhaps he should start at something else before talking about the boy's master. Walker had the habit of turning black at the thought of the man.

"Tell me, Mr. Walker, what do you think of the Noahs?" he asked the young exorcist after a few seconds of silence. The exorcist didn't look at him and instead lay his hands on the table before settling his head on top.

Bookman sat once again in silence before realizing the boy might have already left his company. Did he fall asleep? Bookman asked himself. The boy had looked ready to doze off at any moment.

"They're fine." Walker murmured through the table. So the boy was thinking.

Bookman didn't say anything else and waited for the boy—whatever it was the exorcist was going to do. But the young general did not do anything, and seemed perfectly fine with his head on the table and looking asleep. But Bookman also knew the boy was not asleep. The uneven rhythm of breath was a dead give away. And so Bookman waited.

"The Noahs are close-minded people," Walker started after a while. "They don't want to see the side of the world that are still a complete civilian to the corruption part of the world they see."

Oh. That is true.

"That certainly is an interesting way of looking at them," Bookman said, and the half dozing exorcist continued in his muffled murmur.

"They don't even see the part that's fighting the rotting part of the world so unopen they are in their expedition to 'save' the world." Walker lifted his head and stared at the place his apprentice had been flung to.

"They are also easily deterred, if they can easily give up on the matter of the humans they want to 'change'."

Bookman stared. That certainly was a way a person could look at it. He didn't know the boy had looked to it as such. Bookman forgot that the boy had been through a lot. Bookman had, and this was not the first time, underestimated Allen Walker.

"It's just too bad that they're my family." It was a whisper.

_What? His family? The Noahs?_

Bookman whipped his head up and found that Walker had laid his head back down and this time, had actually fallen asleep.

So much for gathering information.

* * *

So, uh, how was it? It came to me a long time ago, but just decided to write it now. I tried to capture Bookman's point of view; how he might look at things, the words he might use, and how each character acts.

And this was also pretty short. And un-betaed. And quickly made. And yeah. . .

Please let me know of any mistakes! I promise I'll do my best to fix it! ;)


End file.
